


it just doesn’t feel like a night out with no one sizing you up

by uaevuon



Series: Legends Never Die (the omegaverse geass AU) [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Everyone Loves Katsuki Yuuri, Immortality, LLYBB, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Ramen, magical contract a la code geass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-07-16 11:50:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uaevuon/pseuds/uaevuon
Summary: It was a summer heat, which in itself was already awful. Who ever came up with the idea of having someone melting from an incredibly high body temperature and urge to constantly be in intense physical exertion while the sun was beating down on the world? What kind of sadist?





	it just doesn’t feel like a night out with no one sizing you up

**Author's Note:**

> cw for mention of menstruation
> 
> this work is part of a series, and will not make any sense without having read the previous parts.

Before Yuuri knew it, his heat snuck up on him. 

Literally, it snuck up, surprising him more than a week early with the first of his uncomfortable pre-heat symptoms. He woke one morning to hot flashes and awful cramps, only to hobble to the bathroom and find he’d ruined his favorite pyjama pants with menstrual blood. 

Yuuri had always been perfectly regular; four heats per year, evenly spaced three months apart. He had a calendar that was accurate within two days, and leading up to a heat he could predict within an hour when pre-heat would turn over into the swirling, sweaty mess. Yuuri hadn’t had an early heat since three years ago, when he had to rearrange his schedule around major competitions and got a prescription to force a heat. To say he was surprised was an understatement. 

At the breakfast table, Yuuri put his head down and groaned when he felt his insides clench. “I’m gonna need some time off in two weeks,” he mumbled to Viktor.

Viktor just hummed and reached over, petting the back of Yuuri’s head. “Have you heard back from your conservatory friend?”

“She said she’ll make a new arrangement. It might take some time to get an orchestra together, but she’ll send me a MIDI in the next few weeks.”

“That’s good. Maybe it’ll be done when your heat ends.” Viktor’s fingers pressed down on Yuuri’s neck, massaging as close to his aching, swollen mating glands as was acceptable for anyone other than a mate. 

Yuuri moaned, too relieved to even feel embarrassed as he slumped further across the low table. 

“Did you want to share it?”

Yuuri shook his head minutely, trying not to dislodge Viktor’s magic fingers. “No, I’ll just spend it alone.”

Viktor’s hand drew away, and Yuuri whimpered; a quiet moment passed, then Viktor’s fingers were back, rubbing slow circles into Yuuri’s nape. 

“If that’s what you want,” Viktor said. 

\---

It was a terrible heat. Probably one of the worst Yuuri’s had. In fact, on a scale of heats, zero being the worst heat Yuuri has ever experienced and ten being the best he can imagine, this one ranked at about the sixth circle of hell. 

It was a summer heat, which in itself was already awful. Who ever came up with the idea of having someone melting from an incredibly high body temperature and urge to constantly be in intense physical exertion _while the sun was beating down on the world_? What kind of sadist? And on top of that, and all the other usual difficulties of heat, and Yuuri’s typical unsatisfiable-ness, he had to force himself to remain lucid through the whole thing. Reason being, if he let himself succumb to the fog of lust and need, he’d probably cry out Viktor’s name, and Viktor was right next door, on the other side of the only wall in the whole building that wasn’t soundproofed. He would absolutely overhear it, and then Yuuri would have to leave the safety and comfort of his home to go find a suitable rock to live under for the rest of his days. 

Yuuri came out of it with a raw dick and a bruised cunt and lips scabbed from biting through them to shut himself up. The whole heat was so stressful and unsatisfying that he said to hell with his athlete’s diet and ate his way through about ¥60,000 worth of conbini mochi and sweet breads in cute animal shapes as soon as he was okay to leave the house. 

So. Yeah. _Sucked_. 

It didn’t help that Viktor looked just as stressed, the usual slight puffiness under his eyes exacerbated by dark circles, his shoulders constantly tensed, his feet dragging. He looked the way Yuuri felt, and Yuuri worried his heat had affected Viktor, his pheromones escaping even through the walls. But Viktor said nothing of it, only smiled at Yuuri whenever he caught him staring. It was a half-hearted smile, meant to reassure but not fully honest. 

Yuuri was back on the ice in no time at all. Viktor knew already that the video of Yuuri skating his record-breaking program had been taken while Yuuri was recovering from a heat, so he didn’t take the usual excuse of letting Yuuri have time off to recover. He knew Yuuri did better with a challenge, anyway. 

Still, Viktor seemed to coddle Yuuri off the ice, bringing him anything he asked for, sitting close to him, fixing his hair, smearing what appeared to be an expensive balm over Yuuri’s bitten lips. When Yuuri asked him about it, Viktor laughed it off, saying that it was just his nature making him want to take care of a fellow unbonded omega. Yuuri wasn’t sure if he believed that; after all, he had no such urge around other omegas. But he allowed it, because it made him feel wanted. 

He regretted pushing Viktor away before; after all, Viktor couldn’t help that Yuuri had essentially claimed him with an intimate scent mark. And if Viktor really had been affected by Yuuri’s heat, it would be rude of him to refuse the instincts that made Viktor want to care for him, even if it seemed all too similar to courting. 

Especially confusing was when Viktor started to invite him out for activities that sounded way too much like dates. Whether it was evening walks, local festivals, or musicians playing intimate shows at a cafe a few towns over, Yuuri went along with each one, despite knowing the temptation would be too much to take it as something romantic. 

Yuuri had to start to _wonder_ , though, when Viktor insisted on taking him out for ramen. A simple thing, really; Viktor was something of a foodie, so he frequently visited the restaurants and food stands in Hasetsu, tried a new meal each time, and then came back and ate everything Hiroko put in front of him as if he had an extra stomach for that very purpose. And this time, he invited Yuuri along to his favorite ramen stand. 

Viktor had exhausted Nagahama-san’s simple menu quickly, and since then, the beta had tried out new techniques on Viktor, paired with stories about how he’d been making noodles by hand for over twelve years. 

Nagahama perked up when he saw Viktor and Yuuri coming his way, immediately turning towards his ingredients. He had two bowls of steaming hot special ramen out in minutes, and hovered on front of them in anticipation as Viktor and Yuuri gave thanks for the meal and took their first bites. 

Yuuri reacted first; his eyebrows shot up into his hair. “Nagahama-san, this is delicious!” 

The beta put his hand over his heart. “Thank you so much, Katsuki-senshu.” 

“Your best yet!” Viktor agreed. 

Nagahama bowed to them both in gratitude, then left to take orders from new customers. 

Viktor and Yuuri slurped their noodles in silence. Nagahama-san had always brushed off those who wanted to call him a master of his craft, and now Yuuri understood why Viktor had always complained about this when he returned from a night out at this particular location. Yuuri remembered the Nagahama Ramen of his childhood as being a treat, but not one that he went out of his way to ask for; his favorite cooking would always be his mother’s. But it seemed a lot had changed while Yuuri was away, even in terms of the restaurants that were still around. Nagahama-san had inherited ownership of the restaurant from his father in that time, and it was clear he deserved it. The bowls he’d given Yuuri and Viktor tasted like the cooking of a master chef. Yuuri would have to warn his parents when he got home that they had competition. Though no-one in town would even try to battle Hiroko on her donburi, Yuuri had to admit he probably would be going out now whenever he wanted ramen… 

Which reminded him — “Viktor, is this within my training regimen?”

“No idea!” Viktor stuffed more noodles in his mouth and said the rest while chewing. “Until sun-down tomorrow, you’re taking a break,” he said. “Now that we’ve used up all that extra energy you had after your heat, you need rest.”

“Shh!” Yuuri hissed. “You don’t need to tell the whole town…”

“Why not?” Viktor leaned his chin on his hand. “You think they don’t already know?”

Yuuri shook his head. “It’s just not something to talk about in public.”

Viktor’s face pinched. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re more old-fashioned than I am. People talk about their heat in public all the time, Yuuri. In fact, Nagahama-san already knows I’ve never had one.”

“You… what?” Yuuri’s mind went blank. He knew Viktor was a gamma, or a “weak omega” as he had once said, but that was unheard of. Heats were just a given, for anyone with omega hormones. Even the deltas, who couldn’t have children, still experienced heats, pointless as they were for them. 

“Mm. I probably had a presentation heat. I don’t remember it well. But not since then.”

“That’s not possible. Maybe you just forgot it?”

“Nope!” Viktor smiled, though he didn’t meet Yuuri’s eyes. “I stole my medical records not long after I died.”

Yuuri shushed him again. That _definitely_ wasn’t something to talk about in public. 

“Oh, come on, Yuuri. No-one around here cares that I’m immortal. Right, Nagahama-san?” he called out. The humble noodle chef laughed a little as he nodded at Viktor. 

“Viktor!” 

“And look at you, still calling me by my real name around them. Come on, Yuuri; they care about you too much to tell anyone about me.” 

Yuuri stared at his noodles. He wanted to refute that, to say something about how it was still dangerous, but he couldn’t. 

“Come on,” Viktor said. He startled Yuuri by cupping his chin, directing his head to look up at Viktor. “I told you something about me. Tell me something I don’t know about you.” His thumb gently caressed Yuuri’s jaw, and Yuuri shivered, trying not to snap out of his space and fall off the barstool. “Something related, maybe?” 

“Um.” Yuuri blinked, trying to block out the mesmerizing spell Viktor’s icy eyes cast on him. “Summer is my least favorite season.”

“What?”

“Too hot.”

“…Well, I guess that counts. That’s too bad.” Viktor let Yuuri go and turned back to his noodle bowl. “I had a whole date planned out for tomorrow. But I guess you won’t like it.”

“Date?” Yuuri repeated, strangled. 

“Mm. We were going to go to the beach, and take the hyperrail to Fukuoka for dinner, and then and maybe at night we’d come back and set off some sparklers since you missed Tanabata.”

Yuuri just stared at him, dumbfounded. 

“Yuuri?”

“ _Date?_ ” That was still the most shocking part of all this, though a part of Yuuri realized these plans were probably the real reason Viktor had cancelled a full day of training.

“Yes. Why are you so surprised?” 

“No.” 

“No?” Viktor’s playful smile fell. 

“No way.”

“Ah.” Viktor looked away completely; he stirred the broth in his bowl. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood—”

“I’m an omega!”

Viktor frowned. “I thought you liked omegas.”

“I do. But _you don’t_.” 

“It’s rude to assume.” 

Yuuri pushed away from the counter and climbed down off the barstool. “I’ll be right back.” 

Viktor watched him go. Yuuri walked off across the street; his hair tousled lightly in the evening wind. He sat down on a bench on the boardwalk, his frame backed by the ocean, and put his face in his hands. 

A high-pitched scream, muffled, traveled across the street and grated in Viktor’s ears. Nagahama-san came back over and, perfectly uncharacteristic of him, whacked Viktor on the shoulder with a ladle, still wet from stirring ramen broth. 

“What did you say to him?” Nagahama demanded, waving the dripping utensil in his face. 

“I asked him on a date.” Viktor winced, both at his throbbing shoulder and the continuing whine. 

Nagahama hit him again, and Viktor was struck with not only the ladle but also the intensity of love for Yuuri that lived in each of Hasetsu’s residents. 

“You don’t ask Yuuri out!” Nagahama declared loudly, and some of the patrons nodded. “You wait for Yuuri to ask _you_ out, or you get your heart broken.”

“You get your heart broken either way,” said the young woman next to Viktor. She raised her cup to him in a salute to his inevitable pain. 

“Ah,” Viktor said. “Nagahama-san, your house sake, please.” 

A carafe and cup appeared in front of Viktor before he could even finish saying _kudasai_. 

By the time Yuuri returned (and what a shock that he did return at all, Viktor thought, after being regaled with stories of how many people had been rejected by Yuuri’s disbelief or ghosted by his awkwardness) his noodles had gone cold and Viktor, despite the hard work of his overzealous liver and the tiny, tiny cups, was drunk. It had taken about a bottle and a half of heated sake to even get him to feel it. Sometimes he really hated being immortal. 

“Viktor.” Yuuri stood behind Viktor’s barstool, watching him slump pitifully over the counter. 

“Mmmhhh.” Viktor groaned and turned his face to the cool, sticky bartop. 

“Are you busy tomorrow?” 

“I was. Recently got rejected.” He was drunk; there was no room for politeness. 

“Would you like to go to the beach with me?”

Viktor’s brow furrowed, and he shifted so he could look at Yuuri out of the corner of his eye without lifting his head. “Huh?”

Yuuri was so red he resembled a tomato. A very anxious tomato. “And then after, we can go to Fukuoka. For, um, for dinner.” 

“You… are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes.”

“The same date you just rejected.”

“I didn’t… yes.”

Viktor rubbed his forehead against the bar. “I’m a little drunk, Yuuri. Explain to me, why?”

Yuuri stepped closer. “I didn’t believe you really wanted me. I still don’t. But I’d be a fool to turn you down.”

“You _are_ a fool,” Viktor mumbled, his tongue catching on his teeth in a lisp. 

Yuuri nodded once. “Well, will you go on a date with this fool?”

“Heh.” Viktor rubbed his face against the bar again, chuckling as he did. “You’re so funny, Yuuri.” He finally sat up, and he shook his head, hoping it would clear his head. It didn’t. He met Yuuri’s eyes anyway. “Yes. Please. And if you break up with me by avoiding me after your next heat like you did all the other poor souls I’ve heard stories from tonight, I’ll never forgive you.” 

Yuuri’s embarrassment lost a decisive battle to his joy. He smiled, wide and almost delirious with shock. 

People around them were cheering; someone thumped Viktor on the back, which did a number on his already rattled brain. 

“Sit down, you fool. And close your eyes, you’re making it too loud.”

“I’m… what?” Yuuri blinked, and noticed his vision had gone red only when it cleared. “Oh.” He quickly sat down, avoiding anyone’s eyes but Viktor’s.

“Wow, Yuuri. That was your biggest crowd yet. I think you’re getting better at using the contract.”

Yuuri shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about that.” He picked up his chopsticks, but before he could reach for his ramen, Nagahama-san yanked it out from under his nose and replaced it with a piping-hot bowl. Pink broth with fresh noodles, large prawns, and slices of pork marinated in orange juice were arranged neatly in a bowl, garnished with bamboo slices and greens. 

“For the happy couple,” he said, replacing Viktor’s as well. “It’s on the house.”

“Nagahama-san, no—”

“Just get me a ticket to Yu-topia for when you go to the Grand Prix Final.” 

Yuuri shook his head, but he smiled and raised a cup of sake. “Sure. _Kanpai._ ” 

\---

Later, when their bowls were empty, Yuuri was tipsy, and Viktor was sober-er, they took a walk down the boardwalk. 

The summer sea air was cool, and when Viktor touched the tips of his fingers to Yuuri’s wrist, Yuuri took his hand and didn’t let go. 

“I thought you only dated alphas,” Yuuri whispered. “I’ve seen all your interviews, that’s what you always said.”

“Things change in a hundred years,” Viktor said. “Actually, I think I was already starting to figure it out before I died. I vaguely remember something short with an omega, near the end. Just a few dates, perhaps. At that time, most people thought omegas could feel attraction only to alphas, so I didn’t know better. I do like alphas, but not just.” Viktor looked at Yuuri; Yuuri watched the way the wind and moonlight caught in Viktor’s hair. “You only like omegas, right?”

Yuuri shrugged. “Betas, sometimes. But not many.”

“So you’d be okay with an omega who hasn’t gone into heat in a century?”

Yuuri snorted, loud enough to scare a nearby stray cat. “I think if I can get past all of your glaring character flaws, I can handle you not having a heat.”

“Character flaws?”

Yuuri shook his head. “No, it’s not that I want you to change anything. I just think you wear a mask a lot of the time, like you’re trying to impress me.” He leaned a little closer to Viktor. “I’m already impressed. I’d rather you just be yourself around me.”

It was Viktor’s turn to snort. “Be myself? Yuuri, I haven’t been myself for so long I don’t even know who I am behind the mask anymore.” 

“Well, that kind of honesty is a good start.” Yuuri squeezed Viktor’s hand. “While you figure it out, I’ll be here for you.” After a pause, he suggested, “How about this? You said earlier I should tell you something about me that you didn’t know. We can go back and forth.”

“All right.” Viktor chewed his lip; he looked out toward the ocean while he thought. “The seagulls here remind me of St. Petersburg, even though I haven’t been there in so long.”

“I’ve never been. Only to Sochi. What’s it like? Or, what was it like back then.” 

“Hm. It was beautiful. And lonely.” He left it at that, with a finality that told Yuuri not to pry. 

“I see.”

“How is New Detroit?”

“Bright,” he said, wincing. “Everything, and I mean everything, is chrome. And… it’s the opposite of lonely. There are so many people, most of them young, and they all want to be your best friend.”

“You sound like you hated it.”

“No.” Yuuri smiled, small and secretive. “It was perfect. But it wasn’t home.”

“Hm. What was your favorite place there?”

“Aside from the skate club?”

Viktor laughed. “Of course.”

“Hm. There was this… combination coffee shop and library that turned into a bar at night. I spent a lot of time there.”

“Broke a lot of hearts there?”

Yuuri’s cheeks colored. “What did all my classmates tell you?” He’d been wondering since Viktor mentioned disappearing after a heat; Yuuri had done that too many times to count, as embarrassing as it was to admit. 

“They told me enough.” Viktor raised their clasped hands and kissed Yuuri’s knuckles. “I hope you’ll stay a little longer this time. I won’t give you up so easily.” 

Yuuri pulled his hand back; in a move that shocked and enamored Viktor, he clutched their hands to his chest. “Viktor, I never dreamed this much was possible. I hope you forgive me if I still can’t quite believe it. But… I don’t intend to go backwards on this.” 

“Can I kiss you?” Viktor blurted out. 

Yuuri shook his head. “You called me old-fashioned. So I won’t kiss you on the first date.” 

“ _Yuuri_. That’s torture. I’ve waited so long already.” 

“Impatient,” Yuuri accused, teasing. He pulled Viktor along, down the short boardwalk until they reached a set of stairs that led down to the beach. He pulled off his shoes and socks, turned up his pants a few more times at the ankles. Viktor did the same, and they stepped down to the sand. 

“Ah, it’s cold,” Viktor said. He wiggled his toes. 

“Come on. The water’s warmer at night.”

Viktor trailed after Yuuri, down to the shoreline. They stood at the edge of smooth, wet sand and waited for the waves to lap at their feet. 

“Oh,” Viktor said. “It is warmer.” He took a step forward into the water, but Yuuri stopped him, pulling back on his arm. 

“Don’t. No swimming at night.” 

“Why not?” 

Yuuri was smiling, a little amused thing, like he thought the question was terribly cute to ask, even more so for a man of Viktor’s age. “The sea king will drag you under.”

Ah. A children’s story. Viktor stepped back in line with Yuuri. “But standing by the water’s edge is fine?”

“Yeah.” Yuuri leaned his head on Viktor’s shoulder. “Perfect.” 

After a long while of just standing there, when the water was rushing in up to their ankles, Viktor broke the silence. “I haven’t felt so at home in a very long time,” he admitted.

Yuuri squeezed his hand. 

They were out late, talking in hushed tones, until the moon was high and the waves were skimming the rolled-up bottoms of their pants. Barefoot and hand-in-hand, shoes dangling from fingertips, Yuuri led Viktor home. The streets of Hasetsu were oh-so-familiar to him, even at night, even after years away. 

“Sleep with me?” Viktor asked, knowing it was a long shot. 

Yuuri shook his head, but smiled sweetly. “Good night, Viktor. See you tomorrow.”

Yuuri went to bed feeling strangely calm. For once in his life, he’d made a decision that he couldn’t overthink. Not yet at least. Certainly, his brain would catch up with things and try to convince him it was all wrong and he wasn’t worth it. But for now, he had Viktor, and he would hold on to him as tightly as he could. 

He was happy. 

And he had a _date_. 

With _Viktor_. 

The next morning found the pair in swim shorts and loose linen shirts, slathered with sunscreen and carrying coolers of water and sun-friendly snacks that Toshiya and Hiroko had put together for them. Cut watermelon and peaches, cucumber sandwiches, onigiri covered in sesame seeds, alongside some of the savory crepes that Viktor had taught Toshiya to make, filled with seared beef in paper-thin strips, a bit of roe, and a tiny dollop of sour cream. 

Viktor chewed on one of these, slowly savoring the flavor with a little crease between his eyebrows. 

“Not good?” Yuuri asked. 

Viktor swallowed and licked his lips. “It’s good. It’s not quite right, but so delicious I can’t complain.”

Yuuri nibbled on peach slices, his legs kicking to and fro as they hung off the edge of the boardwalk. The pair looked out at the sand of the small beach, toward the port that followed a narrow strip of land, curving around the inlet that had birthed Hasetsu. Most of the boats were in, the fishermen having returned before dawn broke. Only those few making a second delivery to restaurants were out to sea. 

At high tide, the land under the pier disappeared beneath the waves. Yuuri, when he was young and Ice Castle’s schedule was full, liked to climb down to the sand and walk under the pier until the water was up to his knees. By the time he reached high school, it had become the haunt of a group of betas who wanted to bring back the vintage delinquent aesthetic; as Mari’s little brother, they accepted him immediately, offering him cigarettes and laughing good-naturedly when he turned them down, blowing their smoke out downwind of him, encouraging him to show off his skating programs as best he could barefoot and slowed by saltwater. 

At the time, Yuuri had his ears pierced, three holes each, with the tiniest of sparkly sapphires; he’d since taken them out, but if one looked close they could still see the marks where the holes hadn’t completely closed up. In a sport like figure skating, so many piercings were unprofessional, but the kids had loved it, thought Yuuri cool for taking the needle, for having an older sister who could pierce. 

Yuuri’s lips quirked upward. He had good memories of home, even if they sometimes got lost amongst his anxiety. 

A sandaled foot caught him around the ankle, and Yuuri looked to the side to see Viktor smiling at him, a bit of roe stuck to the side of his lips. Yuuri reached out and thumbed it off, then sucked the fish eggs off his thumb. He watched Viktor’s eyes go wide, his cheeks turn pink, with a satisfaction that curled up warm in his belly. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor whispered, soft and sweeter than the peaches. 

Yuuri stood, long legs sliding through the boardwalk railings, and he held out a hand to Viktor. “Come on. Let’s go swim.”

Viktor flipped the lid of their cooler closed to keep everything fresh, and he allowed Yuuri to lift him to his feet. 

They left their shirts and shoes with the cooler and Yuuri led Viktor by the hand down to the sand, to the surf. A few hermit crabs scuttled along the shoreline, unbothered by the usually gentle tourists. The rejected shells of mussels crunched below their feet, jabbing painfully at sore calluses, but then made way for smooth pebbles, and finally soft sand. Bits of seaweed floated along here and there, catching between toes. 

When the water was up to their hips, Yuuri let go and turned, his back to the open sea. He sank down into the water, up to his shoulders, kicking his feet. Viktor glided alongside him on his front, treading water when they got too deep. 

“Can’t you float?” Yuuri asked. 

Viktor shook his head. He flipped over on his back, arms and legs waving to keep himself afloat. 

Yuuri looked him up and down. He could see areas here and there that might have an ounce or two of fat, but otherwise Viktor was all alpha-like lean muscle on a trim mesomorphic build. Of course it was dragging him down.

“Here.” Yuuri reached out, his fingers curling around Viktor’s wrist. “I’ll hold on to you.” 

They floated along for a while, murmuring to one another about everything but the skating they were skipping out on. When they ran out of ideas for the time being, Yuuri kicked a leg out, splashing both of them with water; Viktor took this as a declaration of war and tackled him under the water. Yuuri struggled against his hold, trying not to laugh until he got back to the surface, at which point he broke free, laughing aloud. He dove forward, swimming away; Viktor doggy-paddled himself forward until the water as shallow enough that he could give chase. 

He caught up with Yuuri when the water was just to their knees, catching him around the waist in a tight hug, his face pressed into Yuuri’s shoulder. They shook with laughter, Yuuri struggling and dragging them forward towards the sand, Viktor wrestling him down to the ground with a splash. 

“Oof!” Viktor’s back hit the water first, Yuuri having flipped them in free-fall. Water went up his nose, and he coughed, his forehead slamming into Yuuri’s chin as he sat up on instinct. 

“Ow. Are you okay?” 

Viktor nodded and shoved playfully at Yuuri’s shoulder as sea water came out his nose. “Gross,” he croaked, covering his face. 

Yuuri pushed Viktor’s hair out of his face, the long strands dark and shiny, saturated with water. “You should have tied your hair up.” 

Viktor made a soft noise as he leaned forward against Yuuri’s chest. 

“Come on. Let’s go rinse off. I’m sure we’re covered in sand.” 

With such a small boardwalk, the Hasetsu beach only had two showers set up, each with two shower heads to be shared by a pair. Yuuri turned one on and stepped under. He shivered at the frigid water. 

“Cold?”

Yuuri nodded, but he turned on the second shower for Viktor, who tested it with the tip of his toe, then jumped back. 

Pointless, really; Yuuri threw a handful of cold water at the middle of Viktor’s chest. 

“ _Yuuri!_ ” Viktor stepped forward to retaliate, right into the line of the shower. He shrieked as Yuuri grabbed his wrist and dragged him forward until he could get his hands in Viktor’s hair. He mussed it worse than their water fight in the sea had done, tangling it about his shoulders, and Viktor roached for Yuuri’s head as well, retaliating with shaking, icy fingers.

Despite the cold water and the state of their hair, they were laughing, inching closer until their foreheads pressed together, sandy hair entangling. Yuuri’s hands slid down to Viktor’s cheeks, and their eyes met, quieting their laughter and softening their smiles. 

Yuuri moved closer before he could think about it, chapped lips pressing against soft ones, the taste of sea water mixing with the sweetness of Viktor’s skin. 

**Author's Note:**

> please subscribe to the series for updates!


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